Silence
by Asirus
Summary: Sloth lies defeated and the Mages have been recruited to the cause, but the companions who entered the tower are unsettled. Lyna flees into the silent forest, looking for answers, and Zevran heads in after her, driven by feelings he does not understand.


_This is after "Never Again", after they finish recruiting the mages. It was tricky writing this, since I had a vague idea of what I wanted, but no details. I pretty much made it up as I went along. I hope it turned out ok.  
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_So my computer got hit by something calling itself "XP Antivirus 2010" the other day. Changed my registry files and disabled my antivirus software. Took me two days to dig it all out. :(_

_Luckily, the computer downtime gave me the chance to finish this and write two (and a half) chapters for one of my other stories (Ghosts, mass effect story, shameless plug. :D)._

_By the way, as I was proofreading this I realized that Zevran thinks about how he "almost cut her throat" a lot. This is an intentional exaggeration (because he's freaked), I just felt like I should mention..._

_Disclaimer: Bioware owned everything good.  
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* * *

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**Zevran**

Zevran sat next to the small campfire, leaning against a fallen log with his arms folded tightly across his chest. He was tense, as he had been since the Circle tower... It had been a few hours since he, Shale, Wynne and Lyna had exited after securing the mages cooperation, both against the blight and to help with Conner in Redcliffe. The assassin stared into the fire, his eyes unfocused, seeing flashes Lyna's throat with blood dripping down it, and a little elven girlchild with big violet eyes. He frowned, hearing Leliana chatting with Wynne somewhere behind him, the newest addition to the eclectic group drawing a fair bit of attention from the rest of the party.

"And there were demons looking like your apprentices all around you, pretending to be dead? Oh how terrible! I am glad now that I stayed in camp. I would hate to think what the demon would have come up with for me..." The bard sounded horrified, her voice muffled like she was covering her mouth with her hands.

"Yes, well it was rather unpleasant, though I must say, our fearless leader brought me back to my senses quite efficiently." Wynne was calm as ever, the hint of a smile in her voice as she spoke of the Warden.

Zevran closed his eyes, trying not to think anything that had happened in the fade... what he'd seen... what he'd_ done..._

"Do you know what any of the others saw? Shale doesn't talk much except with Lyna... and well..." The assassin could feel the two women looking at him, but he did not respond. Leliana lowered her voice to a hushed whisper, "Well... he seems a little... _tense. _And Lyna vanished into the trees as soon as they got back, and she looked very pale. Well, paler then usual. Did something happen between them in there?"

The Antivan clenched his jaw, his eyes still closed and his chest tight. He tried unsuccessfully to block out the sound of their voices.

Wynne's voice was respectfully low when she finally answered, and she chose her words with care. "Well... just before we fought the demon, it tried to snare the Warden with another dream. A different one then the first one it tried, I'll wager. We were all there, so we all got swept up in it... it was very... complete."

"But... but what was it? Oh you cannot just leave it hanging like that!" the bard exclaimed, still keeping her voice hushed. Unfortunately, Zevran had excellent hearing. He lowered his head slightly and opened his eyes, clenching a fist and hoping the slight pain in his palm would somehow block out his ears.

"I.... I'd rather not go into details, it is not my place. All I'll say is that it was very peaceful, and what most people dream of... Home, family, safety... Love. Now... we should not be standing around gossiping like a pair of rumor-mongers. Come, I'll help you make dinner, dear."

Zevran stood up abruptly as they approached, not bothering to look at them, and stalked out of the camp. He needed to find Lyna. Needed to see her, talk to her. He was still angry about the final trap Sloth had laid for her, but mostly, he felt a driving need to explain his actions in his own nightmare...

* * *

**Leliana**

Leliana flinched when the assassin stood up as she and the new mage approached the fire, his normally smooth movements jerky as he stalked out of the camp without a backward glance. He looked... upset? She wasn't sure, she had never seen Zevran _upset_ before. Except when Lyna had been hurt in the Brecilian Forest, but that had been nothing like this...

The bard threw a worried look at the elderly mage and whispered, "Oh Maker, you don't think he heard us do you?"

Wynne looked at her with calm blue eyes. "I dare say he did, child." The mage glanced in the direction the elf had stormed off and smiled briefly. "It is probably for the best, however. I imagine that he and our fearless leader need to talk about... what happened." Leliana stared at the mage with her pale blue eyes wide and her mouth open in a dainty 'O' of surprise. "You... you are wicked! You are keeping secrets and you're doing it while looking all angelic and wise. Oh but you are good. I like you."

Wynne just chuckled and set about making dinner.

* * *

**Lyna**

_Oh Gods..._  
_What did he see?  
Mythal save me...  
What did I say in that... that place?__  
He'll leave. He can't leave, I won't let him.... Oh Gods, he'll leave...  
Dirthamen, please, keep my secrets safe. He cannot know! It will only drive him away.  
Mythal keep the Wolf from my side, let my traitorous emotions stay in check.  
What did he see...?_

Lyna had been in the forest for hours, kneeling the entire time next to a large elm tree well away from camp, her hands clasped together and pressed against her lips as she prayed silently, head bowed and eyes closed. She was rocking forward and back, in time with the slow beat of her heart, trying to find peace after the tower. She had managed to pull on a mask of poise during the fighting and while talking to the mages and the Knight Commander afterwards... but once they had gotten back to camp, the Dalish elf felt her panic begin to bubble up, and so she had fled into the comforting silence of the forest.

The Sloth demon had laid her bare, revealing things she had carefully hidden, even from herself. She had seen the anger in Zevran's eyes, though he had tried to hide it, and she was paniced at the idea of him leaving. _Damnit, _she loved the assassin, and she was not happy about it. And so she prayed to her people's long silent gods, hoping desperately for some vague sense of guidance.

* * *

**Zevran**

Zevran stalked through the trees, searching in vain for some sign of the Warden. His mind was drifting between vague images from Lyna's dreamland and his own nightmare, where he'd turned her own blade on her and nearly cut her throat... Where he'd nearly repeated his mistake with Rinna. _Damnit... _He cared for the slender Dalish, that much was clear, though he wasn't sure how much or how such a thing had happened. He thought he'd guarded his heart well after his..._ failure._

And he couldn't seem to find her. She did not usually range this far from camp at night, and she always made sure to leave a trail to follow... but it was as if the trees had swallowed her up, leaving not a single crushed blade of grass or broken twig to guide his way. The assassin was beginning to worry, his fear for her safety overriding his anger - both at her and himself - as he moved faster and faster through the trees.

Zevran stumbled out of the underbrush, the path clearing slightly, and he scanned the forest, his eyes looking for the smallest hint of her... and then he saw a brief flash of movement off to his left. There was no sound, no hint of what was there... the forest was completely and eerily silent. The assassin slipped through the shadows, doing his best to imitate the Dalish elves and their ability to melt through the trees as he moved towards the faint movement. He swung around wide, his hand moving to the hilt of his sword as he tried to get a glimpse of whatever was moving in place just ahead. The Antivan came around a tree and froze, his hand falling limp at his side and a sharp pain lancing through his chest.

Lyna was there, on one knee next to a tree with her hands clasped and pressed against her pale lips as if in prayer; she was rocking slightly, and her violet eyes were closed, her head bowed. Even at such a distance, in the dim light of the crescent moon through the leaves, he could see her trembling violently. Zevran let out the breath he hadn't realized he was holding and walked towards the slender elf, his eyes fixed on her. She did not seem to notice his approach, which in itself was unusual... He crouched in front of her, concern clouding his features, but she did not look up.

Zevran lifted one hand, his heart pounding, and hesitated... _What was he supposed to do?_ His eyes on her face, the assassin reached out and touched her shoulder lightly and whispered, "Lyna?" She recoiled from his hand, her head snapping up and her hand dropping to the dagger in her boot, her eyes a pale grey and wide with panic.

* * *

**Lyna**

Lyna recoiled from the unexpected touch, her head snapping up and her hand dropping to the dagger in her boot. She tried to still her trembling and the unreasoning panic when she recognized Zevran crouching in front of her, his golden eyes wide with surprise, clearing her throat before attempting to speak.

"Oh! Oh hello Zevran, I... I didn't hear you come over here..." She trailed off, her eyes darting around the forest, unable to look at him for more then a few seconds. _What did he see...??_

* * *

**Zevran**

The assassin frowned, trying to push aside the hurt at the panic in her voice, how she refused to meet his gaze. It had probably occurred to her that he had threatened to cut her throat back in the tower, in the fade... She was still trembling, and it was all he could do to not pull her into his arms. That would only alarm her further... He shook his head and sat down, his hands folded in his lap, and murmured, "I am sorry, my dear Warden. I did not mean to upset you so."

She started, her eyes growing even wider as she stared at him. Well, that was an improvement anyway. _At least now she was looking at him..._ Zevran could feel the bitterness of his own thoughts. He turned his gaze down to his hands, knowing what he wanted to tell her... about how he had failed... but not sure how to begin...

Zevran's gaze snapped back up when he felt her fingertips brush against his arm. She frowned and said in a whisper, "No, Zevran... I... It's not... I mean, you didn't do anything wrong. I'm not upset with you..." He blinked. _Was she mad? _He'd nearly cut her throat. _With her own dagger! _The dagger **he **gave her for Maker's sake! Lyna murmured, "It's just... It was... well...in the Beyond there, at the end..." The slender Warden dropped her eyes to the ground between them, her hand falling to her side.

_Andraste's flaming sword... _She was upset about her goddamn dreamland? She _was_ mad. Well... he was upset about her dreamland too, but only because he didn't bloody exist in it. At least her dream didn't have her trying to kill anyone... Feeling a few faint flickers of relief, Zevran shook his head and gave into his impulse; the assassin leaned forward and easily scooped her off the ground and pulled her into his lap. She stiffened at first, then melted against him and buried her face against his chest, her slender fingers twisting at the front of his shirt. He shifted slightly so he could lean against the tree she had been kneeling by, his arms wrapped around her. Zevran ran his hands along her skin, closing his eyes, savoring the moment before he would have to tell her, before he drove her away...

He tensed when she spoke, her voice muffled against his chest. "I'm... I'm so sorry Zevran... about that... _place. _I don't know what you saw but... but whatever it was, I'm so sorry. _Please don't go._" His breath caught in his throat. _Oh. _She was upset because she had dreamed up a place where he didn't exist. And she thought he was mad - well he was a little - and was going to leave. He could hear the pain in her whispered voice, her usual lilting tone gone, and his anger melted away. _Who cares? _It was just some dream made up out of fragments of her subconscious by a demon. Hardly worth getting worked up over, and he certainly wasn't about to leave. Not unless she asked him to. Zevran brushed his hand along her jawline, a finger under her chin forcing her to look up at him.

"Hush now, mi amora. There wasn't much to see in that little invention of the demon. You're friend was alive again and there was that little elfling... Nothing to get upset about." She blinked up at him, her eyes regaining a faint tint of color. She opened her mouth to speak, then closed it again. Finally she asked, "But.. I mean... didn't you... You did not see... anyone else? Like who_... her_... father was?" The delicate rogue looked highly concerned, a faint blush coming to her cheeks as she asked the question. Zevran tensed slightly but shook his head.

"No. Your... _he _was invisible to the rest of us, apparently." The Antivan paused, his arms tightening around her as a horrible thought entered his mind. Hoping to dispel his fears, he slipped on a calm mask and asked a round-about sort of question with one eyebrow raised. "Why? Was it someone I know?" Her blush intensified.

_Oh Maker please just... put me out of this misery..._

He stared down at her, the hideous thought solidifying in his mind, the horror of it surely visible in his eyes now. "She... the little girlchild, she had blond hair." If possible, her eyes grew even larger. He wanted to stop himself, stop this horrible line of questioning, but his tongue was running away without consulting his brain in the slightest. Finally unable to contain it any longer he burst out with, "Dear Maker, it wasn't Alistair, was it?!"

* * *

**Lyna**

Lyna, still cradled in Zevran's lap, felt her panic rising as he persued his line of questioning. She noted horror in his eyes._ This was it. _He was going to leave her now... She wanted to stop him but her mouth was glued shut, her muscles locked.

Suddenly he snapped, "Dear Maker, it wasn't Alistair, was it?!" Lyna blinked at him, her mouth dropping open into a perfect little 'O'. He thought... _what_? **Seriously?!** Relieved beyond words, the tense elven Warden did the only thing that seemed appropriate at the time. She laughed, her hand snapping up to cover her mouth, completely failing to muffle her hysterical laughter. Oh gods, Alistair. The most... ridiculous... _Oh gods..._

* * *

**Zevran**

Zevran stared down at amazement at the diminutive, hysterically laughing Warden cradled in his lap. _So_. Not Alistair then. He relaxed again, waiting patiently for her giggling to die down. Lyna finally got enough air in her lungs to speak and said, "Oh gods no. _Seriously? _He's like my brother. My big, smells like cheese and dirty socks brother." She giggled again, and the assassin smirked faintly at her description of the templar. He watched as her eyes shifted closer to their normal color, dreading what he had to tell her as she relaxed against him.

Suddenly, she stiffened again, her gaze snapping up and a frown on her delicate lips. "So uh, why _were _you so angry? And don't even think of denying it, I could see it in your eyes when you pulled me out of there..."

Zevran gazed down into her violet eyes and shook his head slightly, trying to think of how to explain without giving too much away. "It was silly. It seems I did not exist in that little dreamland the demon made for you. I found the idea of ceasing to exist upsetting. Do not let it worry you, my dear, I am quite over it."

Lyna blushed and settled back against him, her head resting on his shoulder. She whispered, "Oh... Right. I... I can explain that. Later though. Maybe after we finish with the treaties..."

"As you wish, my dear Warden." Steeling himself, Zevran took a breath and tried to broach the topic he did not at all want to talk about. "Perhaps you would like to hear another story of glorious Antiva?" He tilted his head and peered down at her, hoping she would ask the wrong question and get him out of this. She smiled and leaned back slightly, saying, "Ooo yes!" She paused briefly, then continued with a faintly nervous air. "You know, you still haven't told me about your last mission before you came to Ferelden..."

The assassin closed his eyes briefly and tightened his grip on the slender rogue in his arms._ Alas_, she asked the right question and now he must tell her of his failure...

"Yes... I suppose it is time. You have been... good to me, after all, there is no reason to be silent." He paused briefly, gathering his thoughts and trying to prepare himself for the inevitable disappointment in her lovely eyes, when she would pull away and leave him in the cold, wanting nothing more to do with him. Even one as talented as she would not be able to hide her disgust...

* * *

**Lyna**

Lyna leaned back slightly, still sitting in Zevran's lap, and rested her hand against his chest. She stared up at him, slightly concerned by the tension in his voice as he spoke, his golden eyes staring off into the trees. "There is a reason I accepted this mission in Ferelden, far away from home, and it had nothing to do with any thought that I might leave the Crows. Meeting you, after all, was quite an accident. My last mission, before this one... it did not end well."

The Warden saw something in his face, and lowered her voice as she asked, "Is this a story... or a confession?"

He glanced at her before turning back to the trees, pain briefly visible in his eyes. The assassin's arms tightened slightly around her, though he didn't seem to notice. "I do not know. A little of both, perhaps?" Zevran paused again, and Lyna had to restrain the urge to hug him. He looked... sad.

"You must realize that until that day, I was cocky and arrogant. I was the best Crow in Antiva, I believed, and bragged of my conquests often... both as an assassin and lover." Lyna thought to comment that the past tense was _hardly _appropriate in regards to his cocky and arrogant bragging behaviour, but kept silent, instead curling her fingers around the lacing at the throat of his shirt.

"One of the Crow masters grew tired of my boasting. My bid for an incredibly difficult mark was accepted, much to my surprise; I was tasked to kill a wealthy merchant with many guards and in complete silence. Taliesen agreed to be part of my team, as well as an elven lass named Rinna. She was... a marvel. Tough, smooth, wicked. Eyes that gleamed like justice. Everything I thought I desired." Lyna felt her breath catch in her throat, a sharp pain shooting through her chest as he spoke of the girl Rinna. She closed her eyes and asked the question she didn't really want the answer to. "Did... you love her?"

"Rinna was special. I had closed off my heart, I thought, but she touched something within me. It frightened me." The Warden tried to calm herself and let out the breath she had been holding. _There it was. _He loved someone else, and then something happened, and now he'd never love again. She knew she had been fooling herself... but _Gods this hurt._

"When Taliesen revealed to me that Rinna had accepted a bribe from the merchant, told him of our plan, I readily agreed that she needed to pay the price and allowed Taliesen to kill her." Zevran continued to stare off into the trees, his voice dropping slightly in volume as he recited the details. The Dalish elf did not like emotionless tone of his voice, and she could feel the tension in his arms.

"Rinna begged me not to. On her knees, with tears in her eyes, she told me that she loved me and had not betrayed us. I laughed in her face and said that even if it were true, I did not care..."

Lyna couldn't help but interrupt, her heart breaking at the pain in his eyes, she whispered, "But that wasn't true."

"I convinced myself it was. Taliesen cut her throat, and I watched her bleed as she stared up at me. I spat on her for betraying the Crows." Zevran was silent for a long time, and Lyna wasn't sure if he meant to continue. She had a feeling that the... _story... _wasn't complete.

Finally, he turned to look down into her eyes, his face a perfect mask but his voice wavering slightly as he said, "When Taliesen and I finally assassinated the merchant, we found the true source of his information. Rinna had not betrayed us after all."

* * *

**Zevran**

Zevran turned from his contemplation of the trees, deciding that he should meet her eyes at least once during this.... recitation. He fully expected her large violet eyes to be full of condemnation, anger. Maybe even hate. He wasn't expecting them to be soft and warm, shimmering slightly as if she was holding back tears. He suppressed a flinch when she reached up to touch his face, her fingers gentle. How could she do such a thing after what he had just told her? He heard her whisper, "I'm so sorry, Zev."

He stared at her. There was no recrimination in her voice. Did she not understand? But she had used his nickname, as if she still cared, still considered him worthy of her affections... "I... wanted to tell the Crows what we had done, our mistake. Taliesen convinced me not to. He said it would be a foolish waste. So we reported that Rinna had died in the attempt." Zevran paused, bitterness coloring his words. "We needn't have bothered. The Crows knew what we had done. The master who disliked me told me so to my face. He said the Crows knew... and they didn't care. And that one day my turn would come."

Ah, there was the outrage, the anger, he expected. The Antivan braced himself, trying to ready himself for her hate. Her voice was angry when she asked, "Why would he do that?!" Zevran blinked. Alright, so that was not quite what he was expecting. He answered her question, his tone emotionless despite the confusion she had thrown him into. "To rub it in my face, perhaps. That I was nothing. That she was nothing."

Lyna was silent, frowning slightly as she stared at the collar of his shirt. Zevran inhaled slowly and said in a near whisper, "You once asked why I wanted to leave the Crows. In truth, what I wanted was to die. What better way then to throw myself at one of the fabled Grey Wardens?" The Warden's eyes flew up to his face, their color paling slightly and her mouth dropping open.

* * *

**Lyna**

Lyna felt like her heart was somewhere in the bottom of her stomach. She was sad for his past, outraged at the old master's callous behavior, and horrified that Zevran wanted to die. He couldn't die. _No!_

"Do... do you still want to die?" She held her breath, awaiting his answer as she stared up into his amber eyes.

"No. What I want is to begin again. Whatever it is I sought by leaving Antiva, I think I have found it. I owe you a great deal." Lyna closed her eyes, unable to hide her relief; pulling him close as her arms snaked around his neck, she shook her head and whispered, "No, you owe me nothing Zev. Not a thing." She put one finger over his lips when he moved as if to protest.

Curling her fingers through his golden hair, she stared into his eyes and said, quite firmly, "And I do not care what that stupid old man said. You are _not _nothing."

* * *

**Zevran**

Zevran felt his eyes widen slightly as her fingers laced through his hair. Her eyes darkened a shade as she whispered in a rather firm voice, "And I do not care what that stupid old man said. You are _not _nothing." His pulse quickened; Lyna was not angry with him. She did not hate him, even after he told her of his... horrible mistake. Of his old desire to die. She still wanted to be close to him. The assassin felt a tightness in his chest as he stared down into the dark violet eyes of the slender elf in his arms, wondering what he ever did to deserve the affections of such a creature. He tilted his head down and brushed his lips across hers, his breath hitching when she immediately deepened the kiss, her tongue slipping into his mouth as he inhaled the delightful wildflower scent of her; he ran his fingers up her spine, and she shuddered and pressed against him, sighing into his mouth.

They stayed that way for several minutes, lost in the feel, the taste of each other; then Lyna pulled back, looking flushed and more then a little breathless as she whispered, "We should get back to camp before the others start to worry." Zevran smiled at her and nodded, not quite trusting his voice as he slowly helped her stand and waited for his heart rate to slow. He could not remember a single person who could make his heart race so; as he followed her back to camp, her fingers loosely threaded through his own, the assassin wondered if maybe that was a good thing.

* * *

_So... how is it? So sorry if you were hoping for the earring scene, but that's not til later. They still have to get the Urn and such first. I've actually got the earring story partially written, but I've hit a bit of a block on it. I've got some ideas for Haven though._


End file.
